The Naturals
by Kettricken
Summary: Just how did Goten and Trunks get so good so fast? A bored suburban afternoon and the darker side of Saiyan culture. Trunks and Goten, Bulma, Chichi; WARNING: violence, suggested child abuse.


The Natural

Bulma Briefs stretched her legs along the deck chair, inspecting her tan. "I wouldn't say he's mellowed, exactly," she said, "but Trunks is a handful, and I think it wears him down. He rarely has the time for a long solo stint in the GR like this."

Chichi, in a rather more sensible straw hat, sipped lemonade and stared at Bulma's toes. Each toenail was a carefully co-ordinated blue, tipped with white-- a French pedicure tinted to match her blue hair, polished and perfect. Despite the tan, it made Bulma look a little cyanotic, as if she were slowly freezing from the bottom u

"That's why it's so lucky to have our boys the same age-- they make good playmates. Vegeta can blow off some steam-- and it gives me a chance to get to know you better!" Bulma wiggled her toes mischeivously. "You like? I can give you the name of a good manicurist."

Chichi demurred. She was a bit distracted; she had been noting the shrieking sounds of the children roughhousing, but the noises were getting more distant now, almost out of hearing.

"Bulma, are you sure they're all right out there? Goten's only four years old, and Trunks--"

Bulma waved her hand. "Hon, I hate to break it to you, but they're Saiyans. What's out there that can possibly hurt them?" She paused for a sip, holding up her finger. "--I know, I know. I remember the trouble Gohan always got into when he was a kid. But honestly, Chi, and you know I love the kid, but... Gohan has always been a little neurotic."

"Excuse me?"

Bulma sighed. "He's neurotic. Everything's a struggle for that kid. Having power, using power, not using power... he had to learn hard, and he probably always will. But Goten and Trunks aren't like that. They're simple, like Goku was. And he was one tough little kid."

Chichi glanced across the remains of the picnic feast, splayed across the grass. It looked like some kind of cheerful culinary war zone. "I suppose you're right, at that," she said. "It's not like it was with Gohan. Goten picks up things so easily--" she shook her head. "Thank God for Gohan helping around the house, I don't know what I'd do."

"Like I said!" Bulma grinned, reaching across, and the two clinked glasses. "You mark my words: there's going to be no stopping those two. Our boys are naturals."

ss&ss&ss

While their mothers sipped lemonade in the sun, two small boys ran through the forest, shrieking with laughter, arms splayed out in vees behind them. Goten was winning, which was unusual, because Trunks was older, but when Goten got ahead Trunks said that meant the game was Warriors and Androids, so now Trunks was Gohan chasing him and Goten was the Android.

"Kpow! Kpow!" shouted Trunks. Goten ducked and dodged around the fake ki blasts, finally tripping on a log. He took the fall expertly on his back, making a resounding crackle on the forest floor. "Kaploooow!" he shouted. "I splode. I win!"

"The androids don't win, stupid-head," said Trunks, sitting down beside him.

Warriors and Androids was a good game, but Goku-and-Vegeta was the best game. Trunks always wanted to be Goku, because Goku had still been alive when he was born so that meant that Trunks, unlike Goten, really knew Goku. According to Trunks, this meant that only Trunks could be Goku; and by elimination, Goten was Vegeta, but that was okay because Goten knew Vegeta, so everything worked out. Also that way "Goku" always won, and Trunks and Goten were both happy.

Today it started small. Goten jumped up with a mischeivous grin and stuck his hand forward, standing stiff-backed as possible. "Hey Kakka... kaka.. karot," he announced. "...BIG BANG ATTACK!" Goten launched into a flying kick, going right over Trunks' head and dashing further off into the woods.

"You'll never get away from me, shorty!" Trunks shouted. "Ka...me..."

Goten swerved, giggling.

"ha... me... HA!"

This was the part when usually Trunks tackled him. But that didn't happen today. Instead, a small rock next to him exploded in a flash of blinding energy. Stunned, Goten jumped sideways behind a tree-trunk, shielding his face.

"...hey! No fair!"

"You're done for, Vegeta!" Trunks' little face was exultant.

"No more game. I'm Goten now." He peeled himself off the tree. "No fair. How'd you do that? I wanna do that too!"

Trunks pulled back his stance, crossing his arms. "Can you keep a secret?"

Goten nodded solemnly. This was serious. He could tell. His heart was pounding in excitement, more than it had during all the running and mock-battle. If Trunks got to be strong like Vegeta, throwing around ki blasts, he knew he could too. Maybe he could even fly like his brother... Gohan always seemed to busy with books to teach him anything important; he would say stuff like "when you're older." This was something Vegeta had never said in his hearing, and it had never struck him as fair; Vegeta taught Trunks everything, and he was always one step behind.

"My dad taught me a trick, right?" said Trunks. "It's something special about being a Saiyan. And it's totally secret, so you can't tell our moms. Only Saiyans."

"Can I tell my brother?"

Trunks considered this. "No," he decided. "You could only tell real fighting Saiyans. Not brainy-Saiyans like Gohan. He's not a fighter anymore, so he wouldn't understand fighter stuff. An' it's a secret, an' if you tell people who aren't real Saiyans, it won't work anymore."

This made sense. "Okay," said Goten. "I promise not to tell."

Trunks smiled proudly. "It goes like this," he said. "Pain makes you stronger."

Goten thought on this a while. "I don't get it," he said at last.

"It's the secret training method for being a real Saiyan warrior," said Trunks. "Okay. This is how you do it. First you stand still. Then you repeat that you want to be strong. Then it hurts, but just for a second, and then you're better. But you have to be strong. That part's really important. Okay? Do you want to try it?"

"Will I be able to blow up rocks too?"

"Yeah."

Goten assumed the neutral stance his mother had taught him. "I want to be strong," he said.

Trunks took a deep breath; his arms were shaking a little. "It's really really really important that you don't tell," he said.

"I won't tell."

Trunks hit him then.

This was the first time Goten could remember being hit and it hurting. His head was throbbing like the time he'd fallen out of his crib, and he was just starting to realize how much it hurt when Trunks hit him again, in the leg this time, and it crumpled under him broken. He felt it breaking, the snap like a tree branch but inside of him, then ice and fire all at once up and down his leg and his spine and his neck.

"Say you want to be strong," Trunks said, breathing hard, his voice oddly high and quavering. "You have to say it!"

"I w-wanna- b-be strong--"

The fist took him in the stomach, again and then again, and he lost track of himself in the hurt; he did not know how many times Trunks hit him, only that at some point he couldn't breathe through the liquid in his throat-- the taste of salt and metal, choking, and then there was something else in his mouth, a finger shoving a pill past his tongue-- he swallowed, and suddenly it all melted away.

He cried then, in the shock of the absence of pain, gone as suddenly as it had occured-- more out of confusion than anything else; it had been awful, unbelievable and almost unmemorable-- and then it was as if it hadn't happened at all. Trunks' knuckles were red and sticky, and he was wiping them on the grass.

"Like I told you. It's quick," Trunks said. He didn't turn around. "You feel great, right? So stop crying. There isn't anything to cry about"

Goten sniffed; tentatively pushed himself up. There was blood on the ground where he'd been lying, but he felt nothing. He jumped, trying out his legs-- and suddenly he felt exhilarated, eagerness pumping through him, stronger than he'd ever felt. He felt strong enough to take on the world. Trunks was grinning at him.

"You can only do it when dad gets Senzus," Trunks said. "I can bring a couple when your mom brings you over for play dates. And then when my dad trains me, I can train you. We get them every couple of weeks."

Goten punched the air a few times. He was noticeably faster. Trunks was his best friend and he was always right. Trunks would never do anything to hurt him so if Trunks said it was okay then that should be all he needed. Saiyans were supposed to be strong, like Vegeta said.

"This is awesome," he said, and turned on Trunks with his best smile. "We're gonna be super strong. Just like Goku and Vegeta."

Trunks grinned. "Wanna do it again?" he said. He reached into his pocket; in his grimy, blooded hand lay two more beans.

ss&ss&ss

The sun was fading when the voices returned to the picnic ground. The ice had long since melted in Chichi's lemonade.

"Goten!" she called to him-- then, on seeing him more clearly, she sprang up and ran towards him. "Damn it, Bulma-- Goten, look at your clothes! What happened to you?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I fell on a log. And Trunks had a bloody nose."

"I wonder who gave it to him," Bulma commented.

Chichi pulled at the ripped area of the pants, the blood-matted shirt collar. The skin beneath was unbroken and flushed with health and exuberance. "You're sure you're fine?" she said. "Goten, your clothes look like someone tried to kill you!"

"I'm great," said Goten. "Look!" And he began to jump, higher and higher-- almost to the height of his mother's head, laughing in delight. Trunks began jumping too, his face tight in concentration, reaching even higher, his lighter hair buoyed by the wind.

Bulma reached out and plucked her son out of the air, smoothing his hair against his cheek. "Miracle children. What did I tell you?" she said. "Some kids are just naturals."


End file.
